Act II, page 33
ancient, history supplies us with many most painful examples of what I refer to. If it were not so, indeed, history would be quite unreadable.
CECILY. I beg your pardon, Gwendoline. Did you say Ernest?
CECILY. Oh, but it is not Mr. Ernest Worthing who is my guardian. It is his brother- his elder brother.
GWENDOLINE. Ernest never mentioned to me that he had a brother.
CECILY. I am sorry to say they have not been on good terms for a long time.
GWENDOLINE. Ah, that accounts for it. And now I think of it, I have never heard any man mention his brother. The subject seems distasteful to most men. Cecily, you have lifted a load from my mind. I was growing almost anxious. It would have been terrible if any cloud had come across a friendship like ours, would it not? Of course you are quite, quite sure that it is not Mr. Ernest Worthing who is your guardian?
CECILY. Quite sure. (Pause) In fact, I am going to be his.
GWENDOLINE. (Inquiringly) I beg your pardon?
CECILY. (Rather shy and confidingly) Dearest Gwendoline, there is no reason why I should make any secret of it to you. Our little county newspaper is sure to chronicle the fact next week. Mr. Ernest Worthing and I are engaged to be married.
GWENDOLINE. (Quite politely, rising.) My darling Cecily, I think there must be some slight error. Mr. Ernest Worthing is engaged to me. The announcement will appear in the Morning Post on Saturday at the latest.
CECILY. (Very politely, rising.) I am afraid you must be under some misconception. Ernest proposed to me exactly ten minutes ago. (Shows diary.) Here is the entry in my diary.
GWENDOLINE. (Examines diary through her lorgnette carefully) It is certainly very curious, for he asked me to be his wife yesterday afternoon at five-thirty. If you would care to verify the incident, pray do so. I never travel without my diary; one should always have something sensational to read in the train. (Produces her diary) I am so sorry, dear Cecily, if it is any disappointment to you, but I am afraid I have the prior claim.
CECILY. It would distress me more than I can tell you, dear Gwendoline, if it caused you any mental or physical anguish, but I feel bound to point out that since Ernest proposed to you he has clearly changed his mind.
GWENDOLINE. (Meditatively) If the poor fellow has been entrapped into any foolish promise, I shall consider it my duty to rescue him at once, and with a firm hand.
CECILY. (Thoughtfully and sadly, moving slowly) Whatever unfortunate entanglement my dear boy may have got into, I will never reproach him with it, after we are married.
GWENDOLINE. Do you allude to me, Miss Cardew, as an entanglement? You are presumptuous. On an occasion of this kind, it becomes more than a moral duty to speak one's mind- it becomes a pleasure.
CECILY. Do you suggest, Miss Fairfax, that I entrapped Ernest into an engagement? How dare you? This is no time for wearing the shallow mask of manners. When I see a spade I call it a spade.